Friday, November 29, 2019

Honeymoon, Farm-Style

When you've gotten married on your lunch break, picnicked in a cemetery for its peacefulness, stayed out beyond your bedtime at a tattoo parlor, what happens next?
You each go back to our respective houses!

Honeymoon, Farm-Style. Flynn is on dog sitting detail until next week, so he's residing down the lane with his two girls, Maggie and Lucy.

They come over for meals.

Lucy asking Uncle Flynn for more Thanksgiving food.

And socializing.

6 big dogs in one wee little trailer is a little much, what if we take them all camping? Doesn't that make sense?
Snagged this tent at a yard sale for $75.  Pity it didn't come with instructions.

Dax and Micah assisted.

Micah was fired after fleeing with tent parts. Took us all remaining evening light.

 but Dax and I did it.

Party time.

I have a funny feeling my new husband will tell me to 'have fun', he'll stay with his girls in his posh lakeside abode. I'll send him a postcard. I've assured him Dax and Micah are 100x better than an electric blanket.

He doesn't believe me.
At least we had an impromptu reception... we crashed two family Thanksgiving dinners.  In between horse feedings, we foraged at the Carattini-Colon household and the Simmons-DeSchazo home.

Don't Farmer Flynn's boots complete the outfit?

I'm off on this Black Friday and catching up on house projects.  Flynn is off this weekend, while I'm back on the clock.  I think we may have found the recipe to a long and happy marriage:  separate time off.  OK, maybe not, but it's a work in progress.

Thursday, November 28, 2019

Are You Sitting Down?

I got married.

Been best friends with this guy for years.

Kind to all of God's creatures, even the slithering ones.

He pretends to be a tough mean former cop, but I see right through it.

Uh huh...


I mean who else can put up with Dax???

I trust my dogs' instincts.
He's one of a kind.

And I know he'll follow me to the depths of Hell, or bottom of a lake in Winter!

Was always my backup after my surgeries.

That's dedication.

I rest my case.
We decided on tattoo rings.  #1 because we work with our hands and I don't relish the thought of donating a finger to farm equipment, #2 I won't wear blood diamonds, #3 he's gaga about tattoos, so even the mention of it made his eyes flutter with glee.

We found our way to Ascension Tattoo Studio after work.  The artist turned out to be none other than the same woman who tattooed Cole 13 years earlier. After an attempt to steal Cole, I had him branded with my name on his inner thigh, as the vet had made the mistake of telling me that dog thieves cut microchips out. Sometimes, people shouldn't tell me things...

Good enough for my Cole, good enough for me. Full circle.
Introducing Mrs. Flynn and Mr. Smith.

Thursday, November 14, 2019

Micah, Micah, Micah

Dax and his antics always take first stage, leaving little room for other primadonnas.
Micah found a way to draw everyone's attention a couple weeks ago.

My 9 month old puppy began to elicite pain responses from simply yawning to opening his mouth to eat.  The usual suspects of broken tooth, foreign body, fracture were all eliminated.  Suspicion pointed to masticatory myostitis, a serious autoimmune disorder which can be a lifetime battle using Prednisone.  Not a happy diagnosis.

The means to determine a positive diagnosis involve a blood test and a muscle biopsy.  The biopsy can be tricky and we are referred to the neurology department at Auburn.  They are booked until mid January.  I'm desperate, I call all the veterinary neurology departments in a 300 mile radius.  I find a clinic in Atlanta that can see him if brought in as an emergency.


That Sunday at 1 AM, we head to Blue Pearl Hospital in North Atlanta. Dax in tow, because who knows what mischief Evil Kneivel would find if left at home.
Micah is admitted by 4 AM and, exhausted and worried, I decide Dax and I deserve some shut eye.  
The only hotel to take us at 5 AM is a Hyatt.  At this point on a budgetary scale, I say fuck it.

We snag some precious sleep and return to visit with Micah.

He's next in line for a CT Scan. Dax and I twiddle our thumbs for hours waiting.

Petsmart is a good place to waste some time.

Somebody thinks he's in heaven.

I even find a Duluth Trading Company store and chose an outrageous hat for myself, because having fashion sense has never been my forte.

Whole Foods is also around the corner.

Whole Foods hot bar, my favorite restaurant!

By the time I get the call that they believe Micah may actually have an abscess deep in some tissue under his eye, it's Atlanta rush hour.  I'm told I can return home and  pick him up after he's spent the night on strong antibiotic IVs.

My little warrior and I head home.
The next day, we do it all over again.

Micah is glad to be home.  Seems to be improving slightly every day on the double antibiotic regiment.  Test results from UCSD still pending.  Keep your fingers crossed.